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“Do you see me standing here looking like I’m a survivor of a plane crash right now? If you want a thanks for that, then thank you a fucking lot,” La-La countered.
Cornelius was tired of hearing all this bullshit. Laura said she wanted to get things out in the open with her sister, but it looked like she just wanted to argue. He should’ve known that there was something else on Laura’s mind.
“You said you wanted to put all your cards on the table before the meeting tomorrow. Are you gonna do that or are you just trying to fuss and argue with the crash test dummy here?” he asked.
“Fuck you, Corn. How does ya little girlfriend feel about you jumping through hoops for ya baby mama? I’m saying, you know she’s got a price on her head, and you’re still helping her,” she said with a smirk.
“Don’t worry about my shit. You need to take some classes on ducking,” Cornelius retorted.
“Say what you gotta say. I have to beat Mike-Mike back to the room,” La-La said.
“Okay, so you already know most of the shit I’ve done in my day. I just need to tell you that Mike-Mike and I used to fuck around while y’all were together. I didn’t want that to come out tomorrow night because I’m sure Murder and them know some things about me that they’re not supposed to know. They’re gonna try to turn you against me. We need to have a united front,” she said.
La-La was finally tired of all the shit that her sister had put her in and through. She punched her sister right in the eye with her left hand. Her right hand grabbed Laura by the hair and brought her face down to her knee with so much force you could hear a bone crack. Laura tried to recover and hit her sister with a right hook. From that point on, they were exchanging blows while Cornelius sat and watched.
“Corn, why the hell are you just letting them fuck up my house like this?” Queen came from the bedroom and asked.
She was tired of sitting in the bedroom while he helped Laura’s ass out of this mess that she had gotten herself in.
“Go back to the fucking room, Queen. I keep telling you to stay out of this shit,” Cornelius argued.
“They’re fucking up my house, nigga. This shit doesn’t have your name on it. Break this shit up, or I’m gonna put an end to all this shit,” she threatened.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
The crashing sound of a piece of glass hitting the floor made him look away from Queen. She took that opportunity to go to the room and make a phone call. She was tired of all this shit. Since Laura came to the house there had been people constantly in and out of the house. She dialed a number and waited for the person on the other end to answer the call.
“Hello,” the voice answered.
“Ms. Ella, this is Queen. I need to speak to Jimmy. It’s real important,” she said.
11
Mike-Mike walked into the barbershop, hoping that approaching Murder in his place of business would work in his favor. He knew that him holding the gun on Lawrynn and interrupting the party wasn’t a well thought out plan. This time, he felt like he needed to talk to him man to man. He knew he was playing with his life by doing this, but it was either talk to Murder as a man face to face or be on the run until one of them got tired or caught a bullet. He took a deep breath before getting out of the car. He tried to ignore the stares and snickers from the people outside of the barbershop as he walked in.
“Yo, is Murder here today?” Mike-Mike said.
“Who the fuck are you?” one of the barbers asked.
“Either he’s here or he’s not, youngblood,” he replied.
“You gotta have some big ass balls to be coming in here like I won’t kill your ass and have these motherfuckers move your body,” Murder said from the back of the barbershop.
Everyone stopped and looked up.
“I came to explain some things,” Mike-Mike said.
“You’re just like the rest of them motherfuckers; backwards as fuck. You should’ve been explaining shit before you posted up at my party,” Murder said.
“Are you gonna let me say my peace or not?” Mike-Mike asked.
“Shop is closed ’til tomorrow. Everybody get the fuck out,” Murder said, looking only at Mike-Mike.
“Man, Murder, I got a date tonight,” one guy said as his barber took the haircutting cape off him.
“Wear a fucking hat,” Murder replied.
No one else said anything. They all exited the barbershop, leaving Mike-Mike and Murder standing where they were. Mike-Mike looked around like he was nervous all of a sudden. His sense of security left with all the witnesses that had just walked out the door.
